


Everything I Want

by koel7



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, kind of, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koel7/pseuds/koel7
Summary: Sirius just wants to kiss Remus, and Remus just wants to be kissed. That's all, really.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 74





	Everything I Want

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer I: I don't owe any of the HP characters, all rights belong to JKR. 
> 
> Disclaimer II: The section from Remus's Defense textbook comes from Wizarding World section on Non-Human Spiritous Apparition.

_Sometime in February 1975, Hogwarts (fourth year)_

“Get in here,” Sirius hisses, and Remus shoots him an annoyed look.

“No.”

“Bloody hell, Remus, just get in here,” Sirius repeats, holding the cloak higher over his head. “Filch is going to find us soon enough, and McGonagall’s awake too, we’d get detention till the end of term –”

“We did something wrong, Sirius, we _should_ be getting detention –”

“Merlin’s fucking balls, Lupin, it was a mistake! Just get in here, we need to leave –”

“Piss off, then,” Remus argues. “If we leave without letting someone know, people could be hurt.”

“It’s a trip jinx, they’ll sort themselves out,” Sirius shoots back. “Moony, just get under the bloody cloak, I can hear him around the fucking corner alright –”

Remus can hear footsteps quickening, and the soft pads of a cat – blasted Ms. Crawford – and curses under his breath, ducking under the invisibility cloak just as Filch appears at the opening of the corridor.

“Anything here, precious?” Filch bends down to stroke Ms. Crawford, whose eyes dart everywhere, but blessedly passes over the pair of them.

Ms. Crawford meows at Filch and trots away, and he follows, cooing praises after her.

“That was close,” Sirius says right next to his ear, and Remus hisses in a breath. _Shit._

He’d forgotten his stern promise to himself to not, _under any circumstances_ , get physically close to Sirius tonight. The only reason he’s even here is because James is serving detention, and Peter has to catch up in Charms, before the practical on Monday.

“Remus, let’s go,” Sirius tugs on his sleeve a minute later, and Remus ducks out from under the cloak.

“Right,” he clears his throat. “Let’s go.”

“What’re you _doing_?” Sirius asks, still invisible – thank Merlin – and his hand still on Remus’ sleeve.

“I, er,” Remus wonders what he can say that won’t make him sound like a ponce. “You’re tall,” he settles on. “I’m also tall. The cloak just isn’t that comfortable, you know.” _Brilliant, Remus, that’s absolutely brilliant._

“Alright,” Sirius responds, and Remus isn’t sure what to make of his tone. Is he upset? “Let’s just go.” He’s definitely upset.

Sirius doesn’t let go of his sleeve and begins walking briskly, nearly dragging Remus along with him. He doesn’t complain though; it’s a long walk back to the Tower and given that it isn’t even that late and there would be professors wandering about, it’s just not a good idea to begin bickering with Sirius.

Fancying your best friend is universally tough, Remus knows, but it’s especially torturous when said best friend is Sirius Black. Not only does Remus have to contend with half of the Hogwarts students who are attracted to blokes – the other half are obsessed with James but wouldn’t be fussed if they were to snog Sirius, let’s be honest – but he’s constantly _surrounded_ by people asking him to ‘Oh, pass this on to Sirius, please!’ and ‘Be a mate and find out if Black likes lads, won’t you?’.

The latter request makes him even more conscious about how smitten he is; after all, why in Merlin’s name would Sirius want _him_ when Ravenclaw’s seeker is ready to snog his pants off?

It’s five minutes later – Remus is definitely counting – when he hears distant footsteps and someone whistling that Sirius jerks to a stop.

“In here,” the other teenager hisses, and roughly pulls Remus into a broom cupboard.

“It’s probably just a student,” Remus whispers, unsuccessfully trying to shift a broom – or a mop? – that’s digging into his back. “No one can see you anyway, you giant pillock, and I’d have been fine!”

“Shut up,” Sirius says, opening the door just an inch so he can peer out. He’s literally pushed up against Remus, and Remus wants to hit himself – how in Merlin’s name did he manage to get in this position after swearing to himself that he wouldn’t? “It’s not just any student, it’s James.”

Remus scoffs. “Why’re we hiding if it’s James, then?”

“Because,” Sirius looks at him, “I don’t want him to find us.”

Remus stays quiet, because really, what the fuck do you say to that?

The student who is supposedly James draws closer, and it’s quite clear that Sirius is right; Remus recognizes James’ walk, his light footsteps, and the out of tune whistling is definitely familiar.

“Told you,” Sirius grins, and Remus feels a little faint. It should be bloody illegal to be as beautiful as Sirius Black.

“Why don’t you want him to find us?” Remus whispers, mostly confused but also very interested to know why Sirius’ eyes have darkened minutely.

Instead of responding, Sirius leans a little closer, his hair falling in front of his eyes and Remus can faintly register that his eyes have closed –

“’Lo lads!”

The door swings open, and Remus jerks back, snapping his eyes open to see Sirius staring at him, still in the same position, plaintively and James grinning at them both.

“How’d you know we were here?” Sirius asks James, handing him back the cloak.

“Had the Map,” James says, stuffing the cloak into his bag. “Alright there, Moony?”

“Er, yeah,” Remus responds and follows the two, swearing that no, Sirius was _not_ trying to kiss him just then and the past 2 minutes had been a result of the nine Butterbeers Peter had dared him to drink earlier that day. 

* * *

Sirius is trying to kiss Remus and it’s proving to be impossible.

He’s been wanting to properly snog Remus since Easter in third year, when Remus had chocolate on the corner of his lip and didn’t notice it. He’d been so relaxed and laughed at James’ daft new idea to ask out Evans, and all Sirius could focus on was the little spot of chocolate on Remus’ lip.

Since then, he’s tried to kiss Remus exactly three times:

  1. The morning after the full moon near the end of third year, when he had an hour alone with Remus before Pomfrey arrived, and he’d cocked up the moment by smashing his head against Remus’s.
  2. The time last Christmas at the Potters’, when he could have kissed him in front of the fireplace and everyone else was asleep. While Sirius’ heartbeat grew irregular and he was building up the courage, Remus had suddenly yawned widely and curled up in his blankets, shooting him a soft, “G’night.” Fuck.
  3. Last week in the broom cupboard, when he got closer that he ever had previously, but James decided to interrupt.



Attempt no. 3 had stuck in Sirius’ mind for a while; had Remus closed his eyes? Did he do so because he was flustered, because he had wanted to kiss him back? Did he close his eyes because it had become clear that Sirius liked him and that he was as queer as AJ Mohanty, the Ravenclaw seeker, and it was imperative Remus think of the most painful hexes?

Sometimes, Sirius just wants to march up to Remus, demand whether it’s OK that he kisses him, and snog him within an inch of his life.

“Still pining over Remus?”

Sirius looks away from the fireplace to see Evans settling down next to him and handing him a cup of tea.

“No,” he accepts the tea and gazes at the fire again. “I’m trying to get over him. I reckon I shouldn’t just give him a snog out of nowhere anyway, it’s likely harassment.”

“It _is_ harassment,” Evans corrects. “I’ve told you that before, but you’re convinced a surprise snog is the best way to begin your ‘relationship’.”

“Evans,” Sirius sips at his cup and pulls a face. “You forgot to put sugar again.”

“Piss off, Black, I’m not your house elf,” the red head says easily. They sit there drinking their tea until she breaks the silence, “What’re you planning to do with Remus?”

“I just want to,” Sirius flaps his hands incoherently, “surprise him! Wow him! Knock him off his feet!”

Evans snorts. “You’re a bloody romantic.”

“Yeah, well, it’s no use.”

“You can’t be that blind,” Evans bumps his shoulder with her own. “Remus likes you. He doesn’t say it, but his eyes follow you, he acts differently… He likes you.”

Sirius shoots her a glance and is somewhat surprised to see her looking so earnest. “Merlin, Evans, didn’t know you cared.”

“Piss off,” she repeats. “You know I care about Remus. He deserves someone who adores him, and you do. You know you do,” she insists, after Sirius grunts. “Anyways, if you want to carry out your ridiculous plan; Marlene told me about a game her cousin in the States played once, Seven Minutes in the Closet, I reckon? Or Seven Minutes in Heaven, I’ve forgotten.”

Sirius stares. “Pardon?”

“You go into a closet – I think – and you’re supposed to snog another person for seven minutes or so,” Evans explains. “I dunno much about it really, Marls was giggling the whole time she told us, but it’s meant to be really saucy.”

“How does it – how would it even work? Do I just waltz up to him and ask him to accompany me to a closet?”

“Don’t be such a bloody prat, it’s a party game,” Evans waves away his sarcasm. “You’re having a birthday do for him, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Sirius says automatically, his mind racing. “But it isn’t for _months_ –”

“It’s in a fortnight.”

Sirius stares at her. “Oh.”

Evans shoots him an exasperated look and changes the subject. “D’you think you’ll win against Hufflepuff this Saturday?”

“Dunno,” Sirius says absently, his mind stuck on an image of him and Remus snogging in a closet for seven minutes. Did it have to be seven minutes, exactly? What if you didn’t snog the other person – would you be punished? Do both parties mutually agree to snog beforehand? He has to talk to McKinnon.

“Well, try, won’t you? I’ve 3 galleons on the line against Lucas,” she stands up. “I’m off, Black, you sit here and wallow. And remember,” she calls from the stairs. “This never happened.”

And so Sirius sits, thinking.

* * *

Remus can’t stop thinking.

It’s been a hell of a week; constantly over analysing Sirius’ glances and touches, helping out Peter in _everything_ – at least he pays Remus with the most delicious treats from his mum or the kitchens – and having to pretend everything’s alright under James’ uncanny gaze.

He’s relieved Gryffindor’s won the match today because he knows James would have the entire team practising their arses off for the next month otherwise. It’d be an additional month of waking at six with James and Sirius – no one’s safe from Potter’s alarm wand, bugger all the wards – and awkwardly avert eyes when Sirius inevitably arrived at the breakfast table sweaty with his hair tousled just so and –

_Merlin, get a grip._

Thoughts of Sirius kissing him, holding his hand, being under him – or having him under Remus – infiltrated Remus’ mind more than ever the past week. It’s irritating, frustrating, extremely arousing, and all Remus wants to do is have a proper wank but it’s _impossible_ when Potter times how long you take in the shower – a problem Remus only has because he refuses to bathe after Sirius and be assaulted with the ponce-y shampoo-conditioner shit he uses.

“Moony, have you seen my socks?”

Remus stares at Peter above his Defense textbook. “What socks? Better yet, why would I have seen them?”

Peter puts his hands on his hips, and Remus is sharply reminded of his mum when she’s caught him in a lie. “No need to be moody, I’m just looking for them, and they’re the green pair with the pumpkin pies flying around.”

“No, Peter, I haven’t seen them,” Remus says patiently, and wonders if the socks look at abominable as they sound.

Peter tuts and turns around, likely still searching for his socks, and Remus gazes back at his text, not really registering a word.

> _Non-Human Spiritous Apparitions (also known as non-beings) are a type of magical spirit created out of human emotions. They are notable due to not having any real equivalent in the Muggle world, and their similarity to ghosts despite never having been truly alive. Non-beings include Boggarts, Dementors…_

“Ah, found it!” Peter exclaims, waving a sickly green pair of socks around. “Ta, Remus!” Before shutting the door behind him, he turns to look back at Remus. “You should come down sometime, y’know, it’s time to celebrate.”

“Cheers,” Remus says idly, having no intention to go down. He’d wished James and most of the team on the good game before heading upstairs and had strategically planned his departure to the dorms before Sirius came back from the kitchens.

Glancing at his battered watch gifted by his mother last Christmas, Remus realizes it’d be a good five or six hours before the rest of the Marauders came up. He has more than enough time to get a head start on the Potions essay due next Friday – he needs Lily to look over it on Wednesday – or at least practise the Transfiguration homework McGonagall had assigned the fourth years; though she’d be in more than enough of a good mood to let them all skive off after the win today.

What comes into the forefront of his mind is a memory of Sirius earlier today in the air; he’d flown right in front of the Gryffindor stalls and stopped to exchange words with the other Gryffindor beater, Chae. Sirius had barked out a laugh, his head tossed back, and Remus couldn’t get that image – the image of unrestricted, unadulterated freedom and pleasure out of his mind. Sirius laughs and looks happy most of the time, but that particular expression of openness is one Remus sees very rarely. 

A muffled knock brings Remus out of his stupor. “Who is it?”

More muffled speech came through and Remus sighs, getting up to open the door. He is greeted by the sight of Sirius Black carrying more sweets and drinks than he is capable of and two unopened chocolate frogs in his mouth.

“The party’s down there,” Remus quips, but takes some of the treats that are in imminent danger of toppling over.

“You were alone,” Sirius falls into his bed, and snags his book. “Defense? C’mon, Remus, you’re top of the class.”

“Meadows is,” Remus corrects as he sits on his bed and opens a pumpkin pasty. He’s starving; it’s like all the shepherd’s pie he’d had for dinner never existed.

“Meadows has an unfair advantage over us all, what with her entire family practically living in the Auror department.”

“She’s brilliant,” Remus finishes off the pasty and picks out a Honeyduke’s bar. “She knows every answer in class –”

“She’s a swot,” Sirius waves him off. “She quotes the bloody textbook word for word – you, you have the most well fleshed out answers. You dive into the theory or practicality of it all. Go on, ask Nerros, they’d agree with me. Haven’t you noticed they pick on you to answer more than Meadows?”

Remus stares at him. It’s true, in a way – Dorcas _does_ memorize the textbook and writes every essay and answers every question in a way that’d make her receive top marks. The only subject she tries as hard as Remus does in Defense is in Potions, where she enthusiastically competes with Lily.

But why does Sirius know this? Is this just… _normal_ , common knowledge that people are prone to have? Would James know?

A part of Remus’ mind supplies that James would not know much of anything that didn’t have to do with Lily or Quidditch.

“What’re you getting at?” Remus finally gets out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius is staring at him raptly, his eyes fixed on something on…his lips? “Is there something on my face?” Remus licks his lip tentatively, praying to Merlin it isn’t some stray bit of chocolate that’s making him look daft.

Suddenly, a warm pair of lips are on his and it feels wonderful, so he kisses back and then Remus is gently being pushed down _on his bed and Sirius’ lips are on his and sweet Merlin, if he stops he won’t be able to ever breathe ever again –_

Breathe. He needs to breathe. He softly leans away from Sirius and looks into his eyes that have sharpened due to something that Remus distantly recognizes as lust.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he acknowledges that the pair of them have to talk about _this_ , but he just leans up to kiss Sirius again, his fingers curling in Sirius’s hair and lets one hand slide around his waist.

“Remus,” Sirius pulls back, “I – we have to talk about this.”

“Right now?” Remus takes a chance and boldly lets his hand wander lower.

“Bugger,” Sirius whispers, and Remus is a little amused to see the pain in his eyes. “I don’t want to ruin things, but I’m serious about this.”

Remus sobers up at once. “Me too,” he says softly. “Merlin, I’ve been mad for you for _months_.”

“We sound like bloody girls,” Sirius grins, and Remus can’t help but kiss him again.

There come a few minutes of quiet, where Remus discovers the joy of really kissing Sirius Black: it was better than he’d ever dreamed, and it was so _real_. Sirius kissed Remus like he had all the time in the world, each kiss promising another.

“Oi! Black!”

Remus reluctantly pulls away, and Sirius growls at the door. “You’re like a bloody dog,” Remus laughs and gently pushes him away.

It’s a surprise when Lily barges into the room and her sharp eye immediately seeks the two of them out.

There’s a second of silence, then –

“I told you, didn’t I?!”

“Piss _off_ , Evans!”

“Oh, c’mon, let me have this!”

“What’s going on here?” Remus demands. “Are the two of you – Are you two _friends_?”

“Sort of,”

“No.”

“Well, that explains it then,” Remus says sarcastically.

Sirius sighs and tosses a sweet at Lily, who catches it and settles down on the bed closest to the window.

“Evans here realized I fancied you and decided she ought to help me. Except that she really didn’t.”

“Oi!” Lily exclaims and hurls a pillow at the general vicinity of Sirius. “I actually was coming to let you to that Marls started playing that 7 Minutes game – I _was_ trying to help, you prick.”

“What game?” Remus wonders. “How did this start? Do you tolerate him now?”

Lily shakes her head. “Not really, I just happen to think his boy problems are more interesting that the girls’. It’s always about the arse or the _dreamy eyes_ with them,” she pulls a face. “Black here actually seems –”

“That’s enough, Evans,” Sirius cuts in. 

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Lily winks at them. “Also – cheers, Black, I’ve kept my three galleons.” Tutting at the vulgar gesture Sirius throws at her, she gets up. “Remus, is this bed yours? It smells bloody fantastic; you’ve got to let me know what you’re doing – what? What? Why’re you two sniggering?”

“It’s James’s,” Remus gets out in between his laugh, and only laughs harder when Lily flushes and rushes out of the room muttering under her breath.

“D’you think she’ll get together with him soon?”

“Not a chance,” Remus shoots a locking charm at the door and pulls Sirius closer. “Have you _met_ her?”

“Ah, there’s hope yet,” Sirius says, with a knowing look in his eye. “How long do you reckon we have before James hunts us down?”

“A couple hours,” Remus replies and kisses Sirius firmly, effectively shutting off all conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!! I kind of just wrote this on a whim despite my final tomorrow - today? - and really just hope it made someone smile. Hope you're doing alright in this whirlwind of a year :)
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> Ms. Crawford is inspired by a character in Jane Austen's novel, Mansfield Park. Mrs. Norris (the cat) was named after Mrs. Norris (the character) from the book as well.  
> Seven Minutes in Heaven was first recorded in American magazine 'Jet' in 1953.


End file.
